


Lonely Hearts

by notourmoniker (notyourmoniker)



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-19
Updated: 2020-09-19
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:28:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26539591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notyourmoniker/pseuds/notourmoniker
Summary: A girl walks into a bar. It’s a tale as old as time. Can be read as a cursed AU or non-fairytale AU.
Relationships: Evil Queen | Regina Mills/Snow White | Mary Margaret Blanchard
Comments: 3
Kudos: 18





	Lonely Hearts

She ducked into the first place she could find. It didn’t really matter where it was or what it was, only that it had a solid door she could hide behind. 

Rushing inside, Mary Margaret spun around and pressed her back against the black wood door separating outside from in. Her heart beat fast in her chest, and she counted one beat, two beat, before tilting her head back and letting her eyes briefly close as she breathed a sigh of relief. 

So much for a nice Tuesday dinner out with her coworkers. 

Only that part of the evening _had_ been nice, or at least easy and almost mind-numbingly normal. It was only when she was walking back to her car and seen Kathryn rounding the corner that her throat tightened in panic - pushing at doors and twisting knobs trying to slip away before she was noticed. 

If only she’d parked closer to the restaurant. 

But here she was. 

Squinting, Mary Margaret blinked as her sight adjusted to the dim light. Early evening sun shone through dirty windows onto a back wall lined with bottles of all shapes and colors. And dusty lines of light reflected off of smooth table tops and abandoned glasses. The smell of smoke - from cigarettes that had probably been smoked years ago - clung to the walls and hung acrid in the air. A few patrons stuck to the corners and high backed booths, tucked away into their own problems, their own worries.

This was a bar. And a dive bar at that. 

Walking further inside, Mary Margaret took a seat at one of the tall vinyl stools at the bar. The backs of her thighs stuck a little to it as she did, and she shifted, running her hands down the material of her skirt. 

When she looked back up, she was face to face with the bartender, leaning forward on her elbows, a quirked smile on her face. 

“You look like you could use a drink.”

Even in the low lighting Mary Margaret could tell that this woman was beautiful. Her curled hair fell soft against her face, and her lips were as red as her eyes were dark. 

She felt suddenly self-conscious. Her cheeks were still tinged pink with preemptive embarrassment from her near run in with Kathryn. And her clothes, while appropriate for a school teacher, betrayed the fact that this wasn’t the kind of place she frequented. Fidgeting where she sat, her insecurities flared and she hesitated with how to respond. 

But the bartender, moving with obvious ease among the various liquors, didn’t give Mary Margaret a chance to answer anyway. Because a moment later, she was placing a bright red cocktail between them. 

“On the house” she said with a wink. 

Mary Margaret’s fingertips skittered along the edge of the bar top. 

“What is it?”

The bartender smiled. 

“My specialty, the poison apple.”

Lifting the glass with one hand, the other still twitching against the bar, Mary Margaret took a drink and winced. 

The bartender laughed. 

“Not for you?”

Throat still burning, Mary Margaret nodded.

“It’s a little strong.”

“Well,” the bartender said “I guess I’ll have to give you something sweeter then.”

With that, she turned, already reaching for bottles to mix another drink. 

Glancing around the room, Mary Margaret wondered if she should leave. It was a school night. She hadn’t meant to come here anyway. Surely Kathryn had already turned another corner and was gone. 

But she didn’t get up. She stayed where she was and watched the woman behind the bar.

“What’s your name?” The bartender asked. She was still turned away from Mary Margaret - pouring long shots into a silver shaker - but their eyes met in the mirror set into the back wall.

Sitting up a little straighter she replied, “Mary Margaret.”

“Nice name” The bartender said with a short laugh. 

The pink in Mary Margaret’s cheeks deepened and she didn’t do anything to disguise the indignation in her voice as she asked;

“What’s yours?”

Though they still weren’t facing each other, the bartender’s smirk was clear in the mirror behind the bar. 

“Check the napkin.”

“What?”

Put off by what seemed to be a sudden change in subject, Mary Margaret started. But the bartender jerked her head to the side, indicating a black container full of white napkins - and labeled plainly in red on each paper square was ‘Roni’s.’

“Oh,” Mary Margaret said, her indignation fading back to discomfort “So I guess that makes you-”

“Roni.” She turned with a smile and placed another glass on the bar between them “And this, Mary Margaret, is for you.” 

And between the the deliberate way she had said both their names and the wide smile on her face, Mary Margaret relaxed a little - offering her own tentative smile in return.

“What’s this one called?” she asked - lightly spinning the glass by its stem and admiring the glossy white color of the liquid within. 

“I don’t know.” 

Eyebrows creasing, Mary Margaret looked up. Roni, however, was still smiling. 

“I just came up with it. An on the spot speciality.” She laughed lightly, her head turning down to the side, before looking back up at Mary Margaret. “I guess if it’s any good you’ll have to help me come up with a name.”

Mary Margaret laughed a little with her. But just as she started to lift the glass, Roni snapped her fingers. 

“Wait!”

Squatting, she disappeared below the bar. Mary Margaret stood, trying to keep her in sight. 

When she rose again, a single maraschino cherry dangled by the stem between her forefinger and thumb.

“Final touch” she said as she placed it in the murky white drink. 

Mary Margaret’s smile grew as her gaze drifted between Roni and the glass, sitting picture perfect before her. Lifting it, she took a slow sip. 

It was sweet but not overly so. There were notes of bitterness stinging her tongue, but soothed just as quickly by something rich and creamy. And surprising herself, she took a bigger drink. The alcohol and the low light of the bar settled in and around her, easing the tension in her shoulders even despite what had brought her here in the first place. 

But then her eyes met Roni’s - deep brown and somehow shining as bright as the bottles behind her - and she worried that this drink was as strong as the first one, because her face suddenly heated and flushed. 

“So,” Roni said as Mary Margaret set the now half empty glass back down, “What do you think?”

Mary Margaret swallowed “It’s good.”

Roni winked “I knew it would it be.” She paused, leaning back against the counter behind her “Any brilliant insights into what I should call it?”

Mary Margaret furrowed her brows, lifting the drink to eye what remained inside. 

She wasn’t normally the type to be creative, at least in the company of anyone outside of her classroom. She also wasn’t the type to burst into dive bars and accept drinks from strangers, even admittedly charming bartenders. But just as she was about to set the glass back down with a shake of her head, an idea came to her.

“What about ‘The Lonely Heart’?”

Through the glass she saw a distorted Roni lift her chin to think before shaking her head.

“Nah.”

Setting the glass down with a clink against the wood of the bar, Mary Margaret’s mouth opened.

“What do you mean ‘nah?’” she asked. “You said I could name it.”

Roni’s eyes narrowed and her dark lips pressed a little tighter together. The smile did not quite fall from her face though. 

“I said you could _help_ name it. Besides, I didn’t know you were going to suggest something so…” she paused “depressing.”

Mary Margaret placed the palms of her hands flat against the bar top.

“It’s not depressing. It’s..” she too paused in thought “Cathartic.”

“Cathartic?” Roni rose an eyebrow tilting forward to slide her hands into the back pockets of her jeans “Maybe for you. Maybe some catharsis for why you bolted into my bar earlier?”

Mary Margaret bit down, lowering her gaze, and pulling her hands back into her lap.

“It wasn’t- I just,” She stumbled over her words, not for the first time struggling with how to explain this, or if she even should.

But Roni shrugged, her tan shoulders bobbing against the dark material of her shirt. 

“Don’t feel obligated to share just because of the drink. It was no strings attached.” And then she flashed another bright smile, the tip of her tongue visible between her teeth as she did. 

Mary Margaret felt more heat rise in her cheeks. She wasn’t embarrassed though, and again she thought that maybe the drink was stronger than it seemed - making her too comfortable too fast, making her open and vulnerable to Roni and her smile. 

Brushing a dark strand of hair away from her forehead, she looked back down to the hands folded in her lap.

“About a year ago I had an affair with a married man.”

She paused and glanced up to see if Roni’s dark lips had curled into a look of disgust. But while her expression had turned serious, her attention fully on Mary Margaret, there was no harshness in her eyes or scrunch of her nose - nothing to indicate the judgement she had grown so used to seeing on other people’s faces. So, taking a breath she continued.

“It was intense…unexpected…and inevitably doomed. And when it was over, when everything came out, because it always does, it was ugly.” 

Fidgeting with the glass, she watched her fingers slide from the stem down to the polished wood of the bar.

“His wife was outside and I just-”

“Didn’t want to deal?”

Still looking down, Mary Margaret chuckled at how reductive that sounded. But as she looked back at Roni, at the softness in her brown eyes, she grinned at how with a few words and a gentle smile she made the whole complicated mess seem more bearable than it had in a long time. 

“Yeah,” Mary Margaret nodded “I didn’t.”

“Well,” Roni said with an exaggerated raise of her head “Let’s not deal then.” 

And bending down she fast reappeared with two shot glasses and a bottle of whiskey.

“Shots?”

“These two are for me,” Roni said as she filled each glass before throwing the first one back. Her face winced slightly as it bobbed in her throat. “I’ve gotta catch up.”

Mary Margaret tried to hide the smile breaking over her face, but her cheeks pulled tight and she laughed. 

“Cheers then,” she said raising her glass. Roni rolled her eyes, picking up the second shot as they each finished their drinks.

It was like that for awhile - drinking, making jokes, teasing at things that were too much to joke about, not with a stranger, not yet. Time ticked by and more drinks were mixed. Every now and then Roni had to get one for someone else, but she always came back to share a drink of her own with Mary Margaret. 

And Mary Margaret was happy for her company.

So as the light streaming in through the windows grew dimmer, the night stretched on around them until Mary Margaret’s head was buzzing and her body had heated - warmer on the left side where Roni had come over the bar to sit beside her.

“So you still have to give me a name,” she said, leaning in to bump their shoulders together.

Mary Margaret laughed. 

“You have one. It’s on the napkins, remember?”

Roni rolled her eyes, an easy smile spreading across her face. Mary Margaret watched it closely. 

“No for the drink. Which you are definitely cut off from now.”

“I still like The Lonely Heart.”

“Well too bad.”

Mary Margaret stuck her lower lip out in an exaggerated pout and batted her lashes. 

Roni laughed, and _god_ that laugh…Mary Margaret had never thought a laugh could sound like that - deep and rich, making the low light still casting dull shadows glow a little brighter. It was like magic. 

Without thinking Mary Margaret reached out letting the palm of her hand press heavy against Roni’s bare arm. Her skin was smooth and hot.

“But I guess it doesn’t quite fit after all.”

Roni leaned forward, and as she did Mary Margaret squeezed lightly on her arm, feeling the hard muscle just under her skin. But god she was still so soft. Letting her hand drift from Roni’s elbow up to her shoulder then back, she tilted a little further into the space between them.

As she did, her gaze dropped to Roni’s mouth, full and red. And though there was alcohol on her breath, she smelled sweet. 

Mary Margaret wanted so badly to know what she tasted like.

And as soon as she thought it - as soon as she realized that the gentle hum and low heat she felt all through her body weren’t from the alcohol alone - she was already leaning forward to press her lips to Roni’s, soft and slow and a little dizzying.

When she pulled back, head spinning, Roni was still angled forward. Her eyes were closed and her brows were furrowed. Her chest rose and fell in an even rhythm under her tank top. 

Mary Margaret felt her head spin a little faster, her skin burn a little hotter.

As Roni’s dark lashes parted and her eyes slowly opened, her gaze flicked up to meet Mary Margaret’s. There was a sudden spark between them. Electricity shot from the top of Mary Margaret’s spine to the tips of her toes before settling hot and wet between her legs. And then she was grasping at Roni’s shoulders pulling her closer. This time the kiss was hard and bruising as they stood and held each other. Mary Margaret’s hands worked into Roni’s hair, and Roni pulled at Mary Margaret’s hips keeping them pressed together. 

And if she hadn’t already been feeling a little drunk, the feel of Roni’s mouth on hers and the tightness of their bodies against each other would have done it.

The kiss grew rougher and more languid - like it was the only way they could breathe, like it was the only way they could stay standing. Then Roni bit her lower lip, and when she let go there was space between them. It wasn’t much, but enough that Mary Margaret felt only the urge to close it and kiss her again.

“Why did you stop?”

Her hands were still wrapped around Roni’s neck. If she’d been sober she might have been embarrassed about how wanton she looked - mouth open, cheeks flushed, eyes dark and glossy. 

“Who says I stopped?”

Mary Margaret's heart raced, and she arched forward.

“Take me somewhere.”

She surprised herself as she said it. She was never so bold, never so reckless. But she didn’t feel reckless, at least not in the way she had when she was still with David - sneaking around and making poor choices. 

She felt strong and wild. She felt brave.

But Roni’s eyes narrowed and she pulled even farther away. Her hands remained on Mary Margret’s waist, keeping her from stepping closer.

“Are you sure? I’ve seen plenty of drunk hookups walk out of this bar, and while I’m not usually part of them, they can be messy.”

“I’m sure” she nodded “I want you.”

For a moment Roni didn’t say anything else. She just looked at Mary Margaret with a look so intense she could feel it as sure as she felt the hands on her waist and the heart pounding away in her chest.

“You’re sure?”

Mary Margaret smiled, laughing a little as she asked;

“You’re not married are you? Because unless you are I want this.” 

And without waiting for Roni to say anything else, she leaned in to bite softly along the column of her neck. 

There was a moan and then Roni’s voice, coarse and breathy, “Fuck it.”

Wrapping a hand in Mary Margaret’s hair she pulled her head up to press their lips together, hard and needy.

But just as they settled back into the kiss Roni pulled away. Mary Margaret felt a flash of disappointment. 

“Sorry” she said pulling a phone from her back pocket “I just need to let one of the guys in the kitchen know that he’s gonna need to lock up for me.”

Her face lit up from the blue glow of her phone screen as she sent a quick text. 

Mary Margaret nodded, reaching forward so her hands still held lightly to Roni’s waist - itching to pull her back, itching for the feeling of her skin, for the sound of her laughter, for the way she made somehow made Mary Margaret feel stronger and surer and like she was more than her mistakes.

So as Roni slid the phone back into her pocket, Mary Margaret pressed forward, kissing her again. 

And neither of them broke the kiss for more than a few seconds at a time, even as Roni pulled Mary Margaret toward a stairwell in the back. And neither of them stopped their hands from roaming - sliding over hips and waists and under shirts - even as they walked up those stairs to the second story. And neither of them pulled away until Roni had to so she could unlock the door to her apartment above the bar. 

Inside, it was dark. Pale slivers of yellow light from the street lamps outside slipped in under curtains, highlighting the shadows and the black shapes of furniture around the room.

But Mary Margaret didn’t care. She wanted it dark, wanted it reckless.

So she held tight to Roni as they maneuvered together through the darkness. 

And bumping into what felt like the hard edge of a coffee table then the soft fabric arm of a sofa, they moved towards the bedroom - peeling off clothing a piece a time to drop behind them. 

When she finally tipped backward, landing soft on the bed, she was only in her underwear. 

Propping herself up on her elbows, Mary Margaret swallowed as she watched Roni’s pale outline at the foot of the bed stepping out of her jeans. She wanted to reach out and pull her closer, but her body was so hot, so heavy, already melting into the soft sheet’s of Roni’s bed. So all she did was whisper;

“Come here.” 

The sound of her voice was little more than a breath in the blackness, and quieter than the next one she took as Roni crawled over top of her - straddling her, and grinding her hips down onto Mary Margaret’s. 

Moaning, she sat up to press their lips together. As she did, the lace of Roni’s bra rubbed against the bare skin of her chest. Immediately Mary Margaret reached behind her to pull it off. But fingers fumbling with the clasp, she swore in frustration. 

Roni just laughed and pulled back. And her laugh again, _god_. Mary Margaret’s head spun at the sound. Her frustration forgotten despite the space and clothing still between them. But then her eyes widened and her mouth went dry as Roni reached behind her and unhooked the bra herself. 

Suddenly Mary Margaret regretted not turning some lights on, because what she could see in the dimly lit darkness wasn’t enough. 

She only got a glimpse though, because as soon as the bra was thrown across the room, Roni was leaning back in to kiss her. It was careful and slow. Then, without pulling away to see what she was doing, Roni took Mary Margaret’s hands in her own. Pulling them up between their bodies, she pressed them firm to her breasts. 

The feel of Roni’s hard nipples against her palms had Mary Margaret sighing and quivering, ready to live in that moment until morning. But when she moved her hands, cupping softly, Roni let out a quiet breath against her cheek. And that alone made her want to know what else this night might bring. So, rolling awkwardly to the side she let go of Roni and slid her underwear off. 

And though she hadn’t seen it, Roni must have done the same, because as Mary Margaret touched her again - placing a hand on her hip, sliding over to feel the curve of her ass - there was nothing stopping her. 

Then, bedsheets twisting beneath them, Roni maneuvered both of them so she was back on top - straddling one of Mary Margaret’s thighs, fingers sliding between her legs. Her movement was slow and easy. Fingernails scratching lightly at soft skin, working their way to the apex of Mary Margaret’s thighs. 

Reaching above her, Mary Margaret gripped at the sheets, bunching them in hand as Roni finally pressed a thumb against her clit and pushed two fingers inside her. 

The touch rippled over her entire body, making her back arch up off the bed. The next thrust hit even deeper as Roni’s thigh pressed to the back of her hand. 

Rolling her her hips against the feeling, Mary Margaret felt liquid, running fluid and hot onto the bed. But even that didn’t stop her from feeling how Roni slid wet and rhythmic against her thigh. It made her head rush and dizzy. 

And though her body was tingling all over as Roni pressed into her, stroking light and clumsy, it was the feeling of Roni slick against her thigh - as wet with wanting as Mary Margret was against her hand - that held her focus.

So lifting and flexing her leg, she felt Roni grind down on it and let out a shaky sigh. Her fingers still curved inside Mary Margaret. 

Slowly, pressure built between them. Each touch making their bodies move and breathe and burn at the same tempo. 

But Roni’s back was straight - arching from Mary Margret as she rode her thigh. And Mary Margaret - loose and tense all at once - ached for Roni to lean back in so she could kiss her, or lick the valley between her breasts, or pull her nipple between her teeth and let the sharp sting of it roll over them both.

Desperate for the strongest, most intoxicating thing she would taste tonight.

So as soon as Roni gave her the chance, tilting just far enough forward, Mary Margaret was pushing up into her, pressing open mouth kisses along her collar bone and drawing out small sighs and breathy moans. 

In the dark every gentle gasp and shudder had a weight. A sound as solid as a hand drawing out waves of their own until at last they crested and burst. And when Mary Margaret felt it wash over her, her whole body trembled. With a sharp exhale she tensed around Roni’s fingers. 

Mind clouding in the wake of the feeling, she could still hear heavy breathing above her - a light in the fog. So reaching forward, she slipped a hand between her leg and Roni, just in time to feel the way her body sped and seized as she came - wet and hot against Mary Margaret’s hand. 

Then, Roni slid off and away so they lay side by side. And as Mary Margaret let the buzz of her body quiet and fade, she felt Roni warm beside her as they caught their breath together in the darkness. 

*

The sun was too goddamn bright. Roni blinked once, then twice, squinting at the light pouring in through the window across from her bed. Bringing a hand to her head she rubbed her temples. 

Yup, no doubt about it she thought - a hangover. 

But when she realized she was hungover, she remembered why. Pulling the sheets a little tighter around her - letting them slide soft against her bare skin and distract her from the throbbing in her head - she smiled. 

Mary Margaret. 

What an unexpected surprise. 

Rolling over, she turned to face the other side of the bed. It was empty. The sheets had been smoothed down and were long past being warm. 

Her smile faded. 

Well, not that much of a surprise after all. 

Sitting up, the warmth of the sun hit her skin as the sheets pooled at her waist. And it was then that she noticed something out of place, well something other than her clothes from the night before scattered all around the bed.

On the pillow beside her there was a napkin. Written on it, overtop the red logo of her bar, was an almost unnecessarily long note. Something about having to go to work, and being sorry for having to leave but not for last night. 

Roni skimmed it. Though it wasn’t until she reached the bottom of the note that her smile returned - teeth flashing white in the early morning light - her chest growing airy and tight all at once. Because at the bottom of the note there was a neatly printed phone number and Mary Margaret’s name signed with a heart.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much to my incredible beta! 
> 
> Comments and reviews are welcome and appreciated.


End file.
